The New Guy
by HeroesLover77
Summary: A new prisoner arrives in camp. Everyone seems to love him... everyone except Newkirk. Is this new American Prisoner all he seems to be? And will Newkirk lose his credibility trying to prove that something's up?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One -

"So what do we think about this new bloke, sir?" Newkirk asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette. The group was hanging around outside of Barracks 2, watching as the newest prisoner, a Sergeant Henry Jacobson, joined in on a game of volleyball.

"He's legit." Hogan replied. "London verified it last night when the krauts first brought him in."

"I'm glad. Those German spies can be a nuisance can't they, sir?" Carter said.

"Yes they can." Hogan grinned.

"And besides, I like Sgt. Jacobson!" Carter added. "Last night, he let me finish his rations! Said he wasn't hungry."

"Yeah, being captured can have that effect on people." Hogan said, empathetically. He remembered when he had first been captured. A thing like that certainly effected a person's emotions.

"You know, London said he'd been MIA for a couple of days before they brought him into Stalag 13. You'd think he'd be at least a bit peckish, hiding in the forest all this time." Newkirk observed.

"I guess not." Carter said with a shrug. "Can I show him around, Colonel?"

"We can give him the grand tour later on. I don't want to overwhelm him with all the details on the first day. Let's give him a chance to get acquainted with people first."

Across the court yard, Hogan spotted what looked like a fight starting between a couple of his men. He excused himself to go break it up before Klink or the guards got involved.

"I'm gonna go join the game." Carter announced after a moment, and he ran off to relieve one of the other players. The new Sergeant took a seat on a nearby bench to catch his breath, and Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch decided to go over an introduce themselves.

The man sat up straighter when he noticed the three prisoners headed his way.

"Hello there, mate." Newkirk said, sticking out his hand, which the new man shook, somewhat reluctantly. "You're the one they brought in last night, eh? How are you liking the old Stalag so far?"

"It's… a prison camp." He replied, blinking back at him. Newkirk felt a bit stupid.

"Yes." He said. "I know. But it isn't really all that bad. I mean, once you get used to it."

"Newkirk here is just trying to make you feel better, buddy." Kinch said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him. He gave him a look that said not to give anything away until Hogan said it was the right time.

"I appreciate it." The man said, less tense than he had been when the three men had approached him moments before. "I'm Henry Jacobson. Sergeant, US Air Force."

"Colonel Hogan already told us. You met him yesterday. I'm Kinch. This is LeBeau, and Newkirk. And that's Carter." Kinch pointed to the American Sergeant who was running about on the volleyball court. "We're in Barracks 2."

"I'm in Barracks 3, next door. I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, then."

"Sure." Kinch said, smiling warmly.

"Mon aime, if there is anything you need, in terms of food, that is, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm here to make your Stalag 13 dining experience a more enjoyable one." LeBeau offered.

"Thanks. Well, hey, now that you mentioned it. I swiped this from the Kommandant's office when he was questioning me yesterday." He pulled out a flask of whiskey. "Maybe you could use it in some of your cooking?"

The others were shocked.

"You mean to say you grabbed that…WHILE the Kommandant was interrogating you?" Newkirk said, taking the alcohol. "How'd you do that?"

The prisoner smirked. "Just a talent of mine. It was just lying on his desk. So I took it. If you guys ever need anything stolen, I'm your man."

"Actually, I'm the resident con man." Newkirk interjected, trying, but failing, to not sound too defensive.

LeBeau jabbed Newkirk with his elbow, not wanting to estrange the new guy.

"Well you don't have to worry, pal, I'm not out to steal your job or anything." He grinned. "No pun intended."

Just then, the prisoners heard the call for lunch.

"I'll talk to you later?" The Sergeant said, and got up and left.

"Seems like a decent guy." Kinch observed.

"See, I told you!" Carter came up from behind them, sweaty from playing volleyball.

"I don't know. Something about him strikes me as odd." Newkirk said, watching their new "friend" head into the mess hall.

"Aw, Newkirk, come on! You don't really feel threatened by this guy, do you?" LeBeau asked, shaking his head.

"Are you kidding?" He thrust the flask into his friend's hands. "An amateur could pull off something like that!"

"He did it without Klink, Schultz, or even Colonel Hogan noticing!" Kinch said. "I'd say that took skill."

"Yeah, whatever. Let's go eat." Newkirk grumbled, pushing his cap forward, practically to his eyes. He wasn't going to admit it, but he did feel slightly threatened. However, he got a bad vibe from this guy, and he wasn't about to drop it just because the others were giving him a hard time.

At lunch, Hogan sat with the new Sergeant, in an attempt to make him feel more welcome and to get to know him a little better.

Newkirk watched from his table, while mindlessly chewing his food.

"Newkirk's jealous." LeBeau said, breaking the silence and grinning devilishly.

"Of Sgt. Jacobson?" Carter asked. "How come?"

"I am not jealous!" Newkirk said defensively. "I don't know why you keep saying that, LeBeau. I've got nothing to be worried about. He'll be outta here in a few days any way, we'll trade him for who ever the underground sends up, and that'll be the end of it."

"Okay, whatever you say." LeBeau said insincerely, looking down at his watery soup.

"I like Sgt. Jacobson. You know, yesterday, at dinner, he -"

"Gave you his rations, yeah we know. You told us that like five minutes ago." Newkirk snapped.

"Relax, Newkirk." Kinch said. "You're right. He'll be out of here soon enough, so there's no point wasting all this energy over him."

As usual, Kinch was right, and they let the topic drop.

Newkirk didn't know why he was feeling so defensive. He knew his mates weren't about to replace him, but he had felt pretty intimidated when Jacobson managed to swipe the flash from the Kommandant's desk. He silently berated himself for being so lame.

He finished his meal, trying to take comfort in the fact that Jacobson would be around for a week tops, and then would be off to London or the States. And then, he would have nothing to worry about.

A/N - Please R/R! : ) Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two -

The next day, Newkirk sat sharpening his "pencil sharpener" on a stone outside the barracks. It was a clear day, the sun shining, and the temperature above freezing for a change. He was enjoying the peace and quiet.

He decided he wanted a cigarette and patted his pockets, only to find that he didn't have any on him. At that moment, the new Sergeant Jacobson walked by, taking a cigarette out of a box, and popping it in his mouth.

"Hey, mate. Can you spare a cigarette? I seem to be out." He asked, nicely enough.

The Sergeant stopped and looked at him, tucking the cigarette box in his back pocket.

"Sorry, pal. Don't think I can." He said, not sounding sorry by any means.

Newkirk raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about? I just saw you put a whole bloody pack of 'em in your pocket!"

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna give one to you." He shoved his hands in his pockets and strutted off.

Newkirk watched him leave, confused. Whenever a guy got a whole pack of ciggies, it was customary to share a few of them around. Newkirk guessed this new guy hadn't gotten the message yet.

Later on, Newkirk found a pack on the floor in Barracks 2, and after asking all his mates if it belonged to them, he decided to keep it for himself. And if Jacobson asked for one, he would say no.

He went over to the rec hall to play poker, lighting up on his way over. He got there, and sat down to start the game. That's when Jacobson walked in. He looked annoyed, and when he saw Newkirk, his annoyance seemed to grow.

He stormed over and Newkirk glanced up at him.

"Can I help you?" Newkirk asked.

"Where'd you get that cigarette?" He demanded.

"I found a pack in my Barracks. My mates all said it didn't belong to them, so I kept it. What's the harm in that?"

"Oh, you found it, huh?" Jacobson then proceeded to smack the cigarette out from between Newkirk's lips.

"Hey, what's the idea!" Newkirk shouted, jumping to his feet, and throwing down his cards.

"You stole that pack from me and you know it!" Jacobson said.

"Newkirk, what did you do that for?" Olsen asked.

Newkirk turned to him.

"I didn't!" He insisted.

"You were mad because I didn't give you one, AND you wanted to prove you were a better thief than me! Well, point made! Now give it back, or I'm gonna tell Colonel Hogan."

"You're daft, Jacobson! I didn't steal this from you! If you dropped it in Barracks 2 by accident, fine. You can have it back! I don't bloody care. I don't know about you, but I don't steal from our own side."

Newkirk forcefully shoved the pack of cigarettes at the American and sat back down, picking up his cards. Sergeant Jacobson left without saying anything.

"Hey, Newkirk. Did you really just find those?" Olsen asked. "It's not cool to steal from our own people."

Newkirk scowled at him.

"Of course I didn't steal them from him. Why would I do that?"

"I don't know. But how is it that his cigarettes ended up in Barracks 2 anyways?"

"I don't know." Newkirk said, tiredly. He tossed down his hand. "I fold."

Later that afternoon, Hogan stopped Newkirk outside the rec hall.

"Jacobson told me you stole something from him."

"Oh he did, did he?" Newkirk snorted in disbelief.

"Well, what happened?"

"I found a pack of cigarettes, and for some reason, he is obsessed with this idea that I stole them from him! I don't know why."

"You found them?"

"That's right, sir. In our Barracks."

"Well, Jacobson says that -"

"Jacobson can bloody well go to hell." Newkirk said, folding his arms.

"Alright, easy, easy. I believe you."

"Thank you sir. You seem to be the only one."

"I'll talk to Jacobson again." Hogan promised. "What do you have against him, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know." Newkirk replied sarcastically. "Something to do with the fact that he's been out to get me since he arrived, and he accused me of stealing from him!"

"You don't have to shout, Newkirk. I'm right here. And you don't have to be worried about this guy taking your spot on the team. I have no intentions of replacing you."

"I didn't think you did, sir." Newkirk managed a smile for the first time in two days.

The next time he crossed paths with the formidable Sgt. Jacobson, was while watching a game of football (or soccer, depending on which army you're in) the next morning. They were leaning against a barracks wall.

"So." Newkirk said, without facing the American. "I gave them back, and you still went and told on me."

"People shouldn't be allowed to get away with stealing, even in a POW camp." Jacobson replied.

"Funny. Isn't stealing from the Kommandant the whole reason you're so popular in the first place?" Newkirk asked.

"Stealing from the krauts is different. I'd have hoped you would've known that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you ever wish you could defect, Corporal?"

"What? Of course not! Do you?" Newkirk asked, partially hoping he'd say yes.

"I'm not worried about me. But I've seen you talking and joking with the guards here. Like you're friends."

"Are you talking about Schultz? He is our friend! Ask Colonel Hogan!"

"You're right. Maybe I should talk to Colonel Hogan about this. No doubt he'd want to know if one of his own men were at risk of defecting."

"Are you serious? How the hell did you jump to that conclusion?"

"Well, when a prisoner starts treating allies and enemies the same way, one begins to wonder…." Jacobson said.

"I cannot believe I am having this conversation right now." Newkirk muttered, shaking his head. "You're going to tell Colonel Hogan, who I've known for years, that I'm going to defect? He'll NEVER believe you."

"He'll believe me."

"But it isn't true!"

"Says you. Not exactly a reliable source."

"You know what? I've had enough of this." Newkirk stormed off to find the Colonel.

Colonel Hogan had been working in the tunnel with Kinch, and was just coming up when Newkirk entered the barracks.

"Sir, I need to talk to you." Newkirk said..

"Sure, Newkirk. What's up?"

"Jacobson is going to try and convince you I'm a defector."

Hogan blinked back at his man.

"Excuse me?"

Newkirk repeated himself.

"Newkirk, are you trying to be funny?"

"Far from it, Colonel. The guy hates me! He was actually interrogating me about being a fan of the krauts!"

"Alright, I don't know what's going on with you two, but we're going to solve it right now. Come on." Hogan lead the RAF pilot outside, and spotted Jacobson still leaning against the wall where Newkirk had left him.

"Jacobson!" Hogan said, walking over. "Newkirk says you were accusing him of being a defector. Is that true?"

"Oh, you thought I was being serious, Newkirk? I was kidding around, pal. Sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean to!" Jacobson said, in an amazingly convincing way.

"Oh, you're just asking for it, mate!" Newkirk said angrily, taking a step forward. Hogan stopped him.

"You're saying you were only joking?" He asked Jacobson.

"Of course! Why would I make an accusation like that? You should really learn to take a joke, Corporal." Jacobson said, patting Newkirk on the shoulder for good measure. Newkirk pushed his hand away.

"Sir." He said, facing Colonel Hogan. Hogan waited for him to go on, but he didn't know what to say. Newkirk shook his head, and walked away.

"I apologize about that, I don't know what's going on with him. Just stay clear of Newkirk for now, alright, Jacobson? He really is a good guy once you get to know him."

"Why doesn't he like me? I've been nothing but nice to him." Jacobson said, frowning.

"I think he just needs some space right now." Hogan said. "He'll be fine." But Newkirk had never acted like this before. Hogan wasn't sure what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - (forgot this earlier) DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hogan's Heroes, the characters, show or any of it, the only character I own in this story is Sergeant Jacobson.

Chapter Three -

A few days went by, and Newkirk stayed away from Jacobson at all costs. Just seeing the man made his blood boil. And he didn't care much for seeing his mates be taken in by Jacobson's "charm" either.

One night, over coffee in Barracks 2, Kinch came up through the tunnel with an important message from the underground.

"Apparently the Gestapo have increased security in this area. The underground doesn't know why, but they are trying to figure it out. Might be a leak. In the meantime, they recommend grounding any escapes."

"Alright, men, you heard him. No escapes until further notice." Hogan said.

Newkirk cursed under his breath. Hogan had arranged for Jacobson to escape in just two days. Jacobson had even had the audacity to volunteer to stay, rather than to escape. Newkirk had had to contain himself when Hogan had told him 'thanks but no thanks'.

And now, to Newkirk's dismay, Jacobson was here indefinitely.

The next day. Jacobson stopped Newkirk on his way to the rec hall.

"Did you hear the good news, Corporal?"

"What good news would that be, Jacobson?"

"I'm not leaving Stalag 13 anytime soon! That means you and I get to have some more of our nice little talks." Jacobson's lips curled in an cruel smile. Newkirk could just tell there was more to this guy then met the eye. There was something diabolical about him.

Newkirk turned to the new Sergeant and glared at him.

"What's you're problem, eh?" He asked.

"I don't have a problem. Do you?" Sergeant Jacobson inquired casually.

"Maybe I do! 's matter of fact, I'm looking at him." Peter growled.

The American laughed and shook his head. He lit himself a cigarette.

"You Brits are all the same. You try to convince yourselves that you're important, but you can't handle the fact that the Americans are the ones who are turning the tide in this war."

"Yeah, what about that raid the land force boys just staged at Dieppe? Where were the yanks for that?" Newkirk inquired. He hated saying anything bad about the Americans, seeing how Col. Hogan was American, but he couldn't really help himself this time.

"That was a waste of time. It was nothing."

"It may have been a bad idea, but it WASN'T nothing. I lost a couple good mates at that battle. "

"It got us nowhere." He then turned with an evil smirk to face the RAF pilot beside him. "You're right, though. No Americans were lost. We knew it was going to be a failure. We made sure only the expendable forces went ahead."

That was more than Newkirk could handle. He couldn't help himself. He tackled Jacobson to the ground.

"Take that back, you bastard!" He shouted and from on top of the American, punched him square in the jaw.

"Hey!" Hogan shouted from across the courtyard. He and Schultz raced over to the two men who were, by that point, rolling around in the mud .

"Get off him, Newkirk!" Hogan yelled, pulling his man up off the Sergeant.

"You son of a bitch!" Newkirk spat angrily at the Sergeant.

"You started it." The Sergeant said simply, standing up.

"Newkirk," Hogan said, keeping a firm grip on his soldier's arm. "I saw you attack him, unprovoked from where I was standing. What's gotten into you?"

"Unprovoked? You've gotta be joking! You didn't hear what he said, obviously."

"Newkirk, I must take you to the Kommandant's office. It is against the rules to fight." Schultz interrupted.

"He was fighting too, Schultzie!" Newkirk exclaimed, gesturing to the American Sergeant.

"But you attacked him. Isn't that right Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked.

Hogan looked at Newkirk, disapprovingly. He nodded.

"Yeah, Schultz. Newkirk did start it."

"Colonel…" Newkirk began, but Schultz grabbed him and started dragging him off to Klink's office.

Hogan turned to Jacobson.

"What did you say to him, exactly?" He demanded.

Jacobson shrugged, an innocent look on his face.

"I didn't think I said anything wrong, sir. He just attacked me. I can tell he doesn't like me, I don't know why."

Hogan sighed and decided he had better go in after Schultz and Newkirk. He was, after all, senior POW. Even if at times like this, he felt more like a babysitter.

In Klink's office, Newkirk wiped some mud off his face and stood at a half-hearted attention while Schultz ratted him out.

"Fighting with the other prisoners, hmm?" Klink said. "I'll show you. Five days in the cooler. And the other man?"

"Should be shot." Newkirk muttered under his breath.

"I let him off with a warning, Kommandant." Hogan said, entering the room. "He wasn't the one who started it."

"He WAS the one who started it, sir, I told you!" Newkirk pleaded, starting to turn around.

"Eyes front!" Klink barked. Newkirk's face fell and he faced forward once more.

"You threw the first punch, Newkirk. I saw you." Hogan said calmly. "Sentence, Kommandant?"

"Five days in the cooler." Klink told Hogan. "Starting immediately. Schultz?"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz said. He nodded towards the door, indicating for Newkirk to leave.

"Tell me what this is about, Newkirk." Hogan said as they walked down the steps outside.

"Sir, he called the British forces 'expendable'." Newkirk said, setting his jaw angrily just thinking about it.

Hogan looked surprised, and then confused.

"Jacobson denies saying anything amiss."

" 'course he would, sir!" Newkirk said, exasperated. "What, you think he'd just admit saying something like that? Unlikely. The guy is crooked!"

"Maybe you misheard him. Or misunderstood. I can't imagine him saying something like that."

"I did NOT misunderstand! And I don't care if you can imagine him saying it or not! Fact of the matter is, he said it!"

"I don't like your tone, Newkirk." Hogan warned. They arrived at the cooler, and Schultz unlocked the gate.

"Sir, please." Newkirk begged. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt!"

"Then stop punching people." Hogan said. He wasn't joking.

"Oh, ha-ha." Newkirk rolled his eyes. Schultz escorted him to one of the cells, and asked him politely to go in. When Newkirk was inside, he locked the cell door.

"Colonel Hogan, we must leave Newkirk alone now." He said.

"Just a minute Schultz." Hogan turned back to Newkirk, and spoke to him through the cell bars. "Listen to me, okay? I don't blame you for feeling threatened by this guy. But there is nothing to worry about. You're always going to have a spot on the team."

"That's not what this is about." Newkirk insisted. How many times did he have to say that?

"Right, right. But while you're in here, think about this, will you? He's an American. London cleared him. He's already proven that he doesn't like the Krauts. And you're the only one who has any sort of problem with him. Everyone else likes him."

"Well, everyone else is blind, then." Newkirk muttered.

"Just think about those things, okay? Maybe when you're let out you'll feel different." Hogan suggested. Then he rapped on the bars with hand and turned and left.

Newkirk sighed and sat down on the bed. He had been in the cooler tons of times before, but he had always had the others backing him up, visiting him and bringing him things. This time it was different.

No one believed him, not even Colonel Hogan. He had never felt so alone in his entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 -

Newkirk was glad to be released from the cooler five days later. He walked across the frozen compound, breathing on his hands to keep them warm. He opened the door to Barracks two and found Hogan sitting at the table, reading. He noticed the Colonel's cup of coffee.

"Hello, sir. Any coffee left?" He asked, smiling somewhat cautiously. He wasn't mad at Hogan anymore for allowing him to be sent to the cooler. And the last thing he wanted to do was continue this hostility.

Hogan looked up and smiled at him.

"I think there's some left. How are you doing?"

"I'm alright, sir. Frozen solid, though. This coffee oughta help." He poured himself and cup and just held it in his hands for a minute, enjoying the warmth.

"Where is everyone?" Newkirk asked.

"Kinch is down in the tunnel. LeBeau is sneaking some food from the kitchen, and Carter…he's out."

"By himself, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"Not quite." Hogan replied slowly. "Jacobson is with him."

Newkirk practically spat out his coffee.

"Sir, please tell me you're joking!"

"I'm not. Why should I be?" Hogan responded calmly.

"He's not right, Colonel! I keep telling you that, why don't you listen to me?" Newkirk immediately stood and grabbed his coat and cap.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hogan asked, standing.

"I'm going after them. That Jacobson is gonna get Carter caught or worse!" Newkirk explained.

"You're not going anywhere, Corporal!" Hogan said loudly, unable to hide his annoyance.

"Sir -"

"You're not going anywhere." Hogan growled.

Newkirk threw down the blue cap in frustration and glared at him for a second. The tension in the room was heavy.

"Fine. But if Carter doesn't come back, I'm blaming you."

Hogan clenched his fist.

"Keep pushing me, Corporal. You are THIS close to a court martial as it is." Hogan said menacingly. "Now, I told you last week. London says he checks out, and he hasn't displayed any strange behaviour since he arrived. You, on the other hand…"

"Oh, you suspect me of working for the Krauts, do you sir?" Newkirk laughed nastily.

"Of course not!" Hogan said impatiently. "But you've been acting like a bratty child since he arrived! I'm not going to take this from you anymore, understand? One more comment from you, and I'm going to put you back in the cooler myself!"

Newkirk started to say something in return, but thought better of it. He was already in waaaay too deep with the Colonel. Arguing with him was apparently futile.

"Yes sir." He said, dejectedly.

Hogan looked a bit surprised, not having expected Newkirk to give up at all. He nodded slightly.

"Alright then. I'm glad we understand each other. Why don't you go bring Kinch what's left of the coffee. He's been at it a long time down there, and I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

"Yes sir." Newkirk said again.

Hogan sat back down and continued to look at his book. He couldn't really read, though. He was thinking. He couldn't figure out what was going on with Newkirk. He had known the RAF pilot for almost three years, and knew what a good person he was. However, he had a hot temper, and was known to be envious at times.

Still, the fact that the Corporal was so adamantly opposed to this new Sergeant was unnerving to Hogan. He wasn't about to let Newkirk know, but he was being a bit extra careful around Jacobson, due to Newkirk's constant suspicions. Hogan trusted Newkirk with his life, but he hoped he was wrong about Jacobson.

Newkirk brought Kinch the cup of coffee, for which the American was grateful.

"How was the cooler?" Kinch asked.

"Ruddy marvellous." Newkirk said, rolling his eyes. Kinch laughed.

"You're American. You're a Sergeant. What do we need another one 'round here for?" Newkirk said suddenly. The anger he had displayed upstairs with Hogan was mostly gone. Now he was tired and upset.

"I take it you're not talking about Carter." Kinch said.

"Course not. I'm talking about Jacobson. You know the Colonel sent Carter out with him on a mission?"

Kinch nodded.

"I figured he'd told you. I could hear the two of you yelling at each other from all the way down here."

Newkirk sighed.

"I dunno what to do, Kinch."

"Well, what do you actually suspect Jacobson of?"

"I - I don't know. He just isn't right, I can tell. He practically mocked the Brits who were lost at Dieppe. Who does that?"

"Is that why you attacked him?"

Newkirk nodded.

"Maybe you misunderstood him."

"I didn't."

"I guess the Colonel thinks you're exaggerating because Jacobson is so polite and friendly with the rest of us." Kinch suggested.

"Exaggerating? He told me up there that he thinks I am acting like a bratty kid!" Newkirk told him miserably. "That's a hell of a thing to hear from your Commanding Officer."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." Kinch said sympathetically. "He's just annoyed. If it makes you feel better, Hogan asked me to keep an eye on Jacobson for him."

Newkirk looked at him with surprise.

"I mean, he just said to take the usual security precautions. Nothing special, really. But it just goes to show that he doesn't trust this new guy unconditionally."

"It makes me feel a bit better, Kinch. Thanks." Newkirk said.

"I have an idea, Peter." Kinch said. "Why don't you play dumb?"

"What?"

"Even if you still suspect Jacobson, pretend you don't. Don't let him, or Colonel Hogan, see that you do."

"What good will that do?"

"Well think about it. For one, the Colonel won't be mad at you anymore. You can avoid that court martial you're so close to having. And secondly, if Jacobson is a defector, he is more likely to act if he thinks that no one suspects him of anything, right?"

"Hey, that's a good plan. It won't be easy, but I'll just have to pretend to tolerate the bugger. Thank, Kinch!" Newkirk grinned.

"Not a problem, Newkirk." Kinch said, smiling back at the RAF pilot.

At that moment, Jacobson and Carter returned from their mission. Newkirk breathed a sigh of relief to see Carter there, unharmed. He took a deep breath and offered a smile to the both of them.

"How'd it go, gents?" He asked.

"Oh, hi Newkirk! Everything went fine!" Carter said, genuinely excited to have his friend out of the cooler.

"Where's Colonel Hogan?" Jacobson asked.

"Upstairs." Kinch said. Jacobson disappeared up the ladder.

Carter walked up to Newkirk.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, mate. Anything." Newkirk said.

"You're a much better safe-cracker than this new guy." He said.

Newkirk smiled.

"Thanks, Andrew. That means a lot."

"Seriously, boy. You should've seen how long it took him! Don't get sent to the cooler anymore, okay? We need you out there." And with that Carter, followed Jacobson up the ladder.

Kinch looked over at Newkirk and grinned.

"Well, how do you like that?" Newkirk said, smiling back.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five -

That night, much to Newkirk's dismay, he discovered that Jacobson had transferred Barracks and was now a resident of Barracks 2.

"While you were in the cooler, he did a couple jobs and it was easier to have him here with us. There's no point in moving him back now." Hogan explained.

Newkirk didn't say anything.

Jacobson however, was obviously trying to get a reaction from him. When no one else was looking he sent a smug grin in Newkirk's direction.

Newkirk ignored him.

"Oh, LeBeau! I got you something from the Kommandant's personal supplies!" Jacobson said at one point, walking up to the small Frenchman. He produced a jar of something.

"Rosemary! That's great, Jacobson! I'll make something special for dinner tonight. Merci, mon ami!" LeBeau said, smiling from ear to ear.

Newkirk subtly clenched his fists in frustration. He could see right through Jacobson, and couldn't stand to watch his friends being fooled like that. Jacobson hadn't gotten LeBeau that stuff because he was his friend. He was just trying to fool him into thinking so.

But still, Newkirk went along with Kinch's suggestion and pretended that he no longer had a problem with Jacobson.

The next couple days were thankfully pretty normal, despite the lack of escapes.

LeBeau, Carter and Olsen seemed to be pretty fond of Jacobson and would often hang out and joke around with him. Newkirk didn't complain. Jacobson was very convincing. Kinch seemed to share the Englander's distain for the new man to some extent, and Newkirk found himself reporting to Kinch whenever Jacobson so much as talked to one of the others.

Newkirk spent a fair amount of his time trying to get on Hogan's good side again, refraining from mentioning Jacobson to him for any reason.

"So you finally trust him, do you?' Hogan asked, once when the topic arose.

"Yes sir, I guess it just took me a little while." Newkirk lied through his teeth.

"That's good." Hogan said, handing Newkirk a cup of coffee and then turning to pour one for himself. "Because he has some important information, and we're going to need to act on it soon."

Newkirk felt like some one had punched him in the stomach.

"Really? What, uh, what information might that be Colonel?"

"The Gestapo have finally eased up on their security in the area. Rumour has it they've caught the leak. The underground told us that they didn't know who had been captured, or where they were being kept. But apparently, Jacobson heard Klink talking to Major Hochstetter when he was here yesterday. He got the location and the name of the contact."

"Are we going to try and break him out, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"I don't know yet. But he has a lot of important information about the Krauts. We need to at least make contact with him."

A hundred things were going through Newkirk's mind. Was Jacobson leading them into a trap? Newkirk couldn't shake that feeling. But again, he didn't mention it to anyone but Kinch.

"What if he's leading us into a trap?" Newkirk practically exploded when the two of them were alone down in the tunnel.

"You think he's Gestapo?" Kinch asked.

"Do you?"

"Not really." Kinch said. "He's an American. The Krauts don't usually let Americans work for the Gestapo."

"They let defectors work for them." Newkirk countered.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" Kinch asked.

"I don't know! That's the problem. What can I do?" He stopped pacing and faced Kinch. "I just get this terrible feeling around him. It's like a sixth sense or something. No one else seems to get it."

"I know where you're coming from. There's something phoney in his smile, I've noticed it a couple times."

"Thank you!" Newkirk said, throwing his hands up. "One person believes me."

"Look, I don't think there is anything we can do about this mission. When Col. Hogan makes up his mind about something, it's hard to change it, you know that. However, if this mission goes well, we'll know he'd alright. If not…"

"It'll be too late by that point." Newkirk said miserably.

Kinch shrugged.

"It's out of our hands, Peter. Oh, would you go get Colonel Hogan? London's coming in the radio."

"Sure thing, Kinch." Newkirk said. He hurried up the ladder to get his commanding officer.

"So this is the new plan. A lot depends on the success of this mission." Hogan announced. Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, Jacobson and Newkirk were gathered around the table in Barracks 2, listening to the mission briefing being given by Hogan.

"We go out tomorrow night. Any questions about the plan?"

No one had any questions. Newkirk looked over at Kinch, who met his look with a shrug.

"Good." Hogan said with a smile. "I recommend everyone get a good rest tonight. There won't be much time for sleep tomorrow, I'm afraid. Good night!"

A chorus of 'good night's came from the group, who dispersed to get ready for bed as Hogan went to his own quarters.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Jacobson." Newkirk remarked casually, hopping up onto his bunk. "Everything alright?"

"It's nothing. Why do you think that Colonel Hogan changed the plans? I mean, what was wrong with the old plan?" He asked. He seemed agitated.

"Sometimes the Colonel changes his mind. I'm sure he had a good reason." Kinch explained.

"What's it to you?" Newkirk asked.

"Like I said, it's nothing." Jacobson told him. But from where he sat on his bunk, Newkirk could see a worried look on his face.

Schultz came in shouting "Lights out!" a few minutes later.

Newkirk rolled onto his side, scowling, not wanting to get up. Was it seriously time for roll call already? He glanced out the window, to see the lights from the tower cutting across the dark compound. It was still night. Then who was moving around?

Newkirk turned onto his other side, and peeked through one eye. Sure enough, Jacobson's bunk of empty. Newkirk lay silent as he observed the American change into civilian clothes, open the trap door to the tunnel, and descend down it.

Newkirk had no idea what to do. He'd unintentionally frozen up for fear of Jacobson seeing him awake. Suddenly, he knew what to do. He climbed down from his bunk and changed quickly but quietly into his civvies. Then, before going down into the tunnels, quickly scrawled out a note in case something happened, which he left on top of his bed.

Then, he hurried out. He would need to move fast if he was going to tail Jacobson.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews! They mean a lot! : )

Chapter 6 -

Jacobson was certainly moving with a sense of urgency. Newkirk was having a hard time keeping eyes on him as they moved through the forest in the dark.

Luckily, Newkirk, being such a skilled conman, was able to tail him without being seen or heard. He had a few scratches on his hands and face from branches, but he didn't even notice. He was on a mission of his own.

As they neared the edge of the forest, leading into the town, Newkirk hung back a little bit. He couldn't risk Jacobson seeing him. He stood behind a tree and watched as the American walked out of the woods and crossed the street over to the rows of shops on the other side. He checked behind him, to see if someone was following, and then walked down the sidewalk, and into the Hofbrau.

Newkirk waited a second before sprinting out from the forest and crossing the street. Luckily, the owner of the Hofbrau happened to be an underground agent. Newkirk went through the back entrance.

Hans, the owner, was washing mugs in the kitchen when Newkirk entered.

"Guten Abend." The man said with a confused look on his face. "I wasn't expecting anyone to visit tonight."

"I'm here on, um, unofficial business. You don't mind, do you?"

"Just as long as you're careful."

"Of course, mate." Newkirk said. He grabbed an apron and pulled his cap down over his eyes. "I need to do a bit of surveillance work. I need to get close but can't be seen…"

"Say no more. Table 6, in the far corner, ordered two beers." He handed him a tray.

"Right. Thanks." Newkirk pushed the door open using his back and carried the drinks into the hofrbau. It was busy, even for a Friday night. That was good. Newkirk scanned the crowd for table 6, and for Jacobson. Then he realised that Jacobson was sitting at table 6. He rushed back into the kitchen.

"You'll have to serve table six, Hans. The guys who ordered the beers are the same guys I'm watching!"

"I'll see what I can figure out from them." He took the tray out of Newkirk's hands and disappeared behind the doors. He reappeared a moment later, the tray empty.

"Well?" Newkirk pressed.

"Two men, one with a German accent, one with an American accent."

"What were they talking about?"

"I didn't hear much of the conversation. The American said 'I know it is last minute, but I had to talk to you'. And the German man said 'About tomorrow? Vas is los?' and the American told him to speak english. And that's all I could get. They were speaking very quietly."

"Was the man in uniform?" Newkirk asked.

"No. A black suit. Gestapo maybe?"

"Probably." Newkirk grimaced. "I knew he was all wrong, that Jacobson! Just how much does this German know already? I have to hear what they are talking about."

"Table five just ordered another round of Schnapps. You'd be able to hear them from there. Can you bring it to them discretely enough?"

"Discretion is something of a speciality of mine." Newkirk said, with a smirk. Hans poured the drinks and held the door open as Newkirk carried the tray out into the drinking area.

He walked smoothly over to table five, his head down. He took a quick glance at table six, where he spotted Jacobson sitting next to someone else he knew. His name was Major Lindhorst. And he was, most defiantly, Gestapo.

Table five was full of rowdy young soldiers, privates, perhaps on their first leave, and already somewhat smashed.

"Here you are, gentlemen." Newkirk said in a strong German accent.

"Danke, Mein Herr!" One of the boys said, his words slurred. He took the drink, and standing on wobbly legs, shouted "Heil Hitler!"

The entire room re-echoed the salute. Newkirk watched as the two men at table six followed suit, clinked their glasses together and downed their drinks. Saluting Hitler wilfully was, in Newkirk's books, a sure sign of defection.

"Another round here, Mein Herr." Came a voice from behind him. Newkirk cringed slightly. He contemplated walking away, but the man was liable to get up and go after him, which would make things worse.

"Jawohl." Newkirk said. He ducked his head and quickly gathered table six's empty glasses onto his tray.

"What do you mean he changed the plans? Why did he do that? He doesn't suspect anything does he?"

"Nah, I don't think so. But that damn Englander. He won't leave me alone."

"I thought you were going to get rid of him!"

"I tried. I guess Hogan thought there was room enough for the both of us on his little team. It's still annoying."

_So THAT's why he was picking on me! _Newkirk thought. _He knew Hogan would only let his inner circle be part of the important missions. He was trying to get me in trouble so he could replace me!_

Newkirk had to tear himself away from the conversation. If he hung around any longer, he was certainly draw attention to himself. And that was something he didn't want. He went back to the kitchen.

"I knew it!" He exclaimed to the older man. "Jacobson's a defector! That man he's with is a Gestapo Major, Major Lindhorst. Why that bloody-"

"You weren't seen, were you?"

"No, I don't think so." Newkirk said. He was out of breath. "They want another round of beers. Maybe you should bring it to the them. I might pass out if I go back out there."

Hans nodded and went back out.

Newkirk leaned against the counter, exhausted. The past week had been extremely difficult. And now, he thought, at least it was coming to an end. He would go back and tell Hogan the whole situation. He would have to believe him this time.

Just then, Hans came back into the kitchen. He still had the glasses on his tray.

"What -"

"They're gone. Table six is empty. Are you sure they ordered another round?"

Newkirk nodded, feeling anxious now. "Why would they order more beer and leave before they got it?" He wondered out loud.

"I don't know. But perhaps you had better get back to camp. If Jacobson sees you missing, he'll know he was followed."

"You're right. I know the woods better than he does. If I hurry, I might be able to make it back before he does." Newkirk took off the apron and handed it back to Hans, shaking his hand.

"Thanks for everything mate. You've been a great help." Newkirk turned and went out the back door.

_Now, which route would I take to get back to the Stalag before Jacobson?_ He wondered.

He took a few steps, and suddenly felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and everything went back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven -

Early the next morning, as the heroes awoke in their barracks, they were alarmed to see Newkirk and Jacobson's beds empty.

"Where the heck could those two have gone?" Carter said.

"And why didn't they clear it with me first?" Hogan wondered. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"And with good reason, Colonel." Kinch said. He held up the note. "Newkirk left this on his bunk."

"What does it say?" Hogan asked, hurrying over.

"It says 'Jacobson was sneaking out, so I followed him. If I'm not back by morning, you'll know that I was right about him!' Signed Peter Newkirk, 0031hrs.

"Oh my God." Hogan said quietly. He had a terrible sinking feeling. "Newkirk was right the whole time! I can't - I can't believe I didn't listen to him!"

"Maybe they just got picked up by a patrol." Carter suggested. But he didn't sounds as if he really believed that.

"Both of them separately?" Hogan asked doubtfully. "Besides, Jacobson was sneaking out in the middle of the night. That's more than a bit suspicious. I just wish Newkirk had asked for back up in this case."

"Well what are we going to do, mon Colonel?" LeBeau asked. "We can't just sit around doing nothing!"

"You're right about that, but we don't even know where Newkirk and Jacobson went last night. Kinch, get on the radio and contact someone from the local underground. Ask if they have any news about Gestapo arrests made within the last few hours. Something like this is likely to be off the record, but at least we can try."

"Sure thing, Colonel." Kinch said, and he went down into the tunnel.

"What do we tell Klink?" LeBeau asked. "We have roll call in a few minutes."

"We tell him they escaped. Then, I'll casually suggest contacting the other Stalags in the area, to see if they are they were picked up by members of the Wehrmacht. If so, we can get them back."

"If not?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan didn't reply.

Kinch came back up a few minutes later.

"Well?" Hogan asked. Everyone stood up, anticipating the news.

"Hans Schwarz was arrested in the middle of the night."

"The owner of the Hofbrau in town?"

"That's right. His brother wasn't arrested, though. They own the Hofbrau together. He was working last night, too, but wasn't aware that anything was going on."

"Is he willing to talk to us?" Hogan asked.

"If it will get his brother back, I'm sure he would be."

"Well, unfortunately I can't promise we'll get his brother back. Newkirk is our first priority. But we'll try. I'll go into town tonight after lights out and talk to him."

"By yourself, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"It's my fault Newkirk is missing. He's my responsibility. Besides, it's a one man job, I'll be fine."

"ROLL CALL! RAUS, EVERYBODY!" Schultz's bellowing voice came through the door before he did.

"RAU- oh. You are all awake already." Schultz said. "Roll call."

"We're coming Schultz." Hogan said.

Ten minutes later, and Hogan was standing in Klink's office. Klink had 'called out the guards' and they were currently scouring the area for the missing prisoners.

"You know where they are, Hogan, now talk!" Klink ordered.

"I honestly don't, Kommandant." Hogan said, wishing that weren't the truth.

"You're lying!" Klink accused. "What will become of my perfect record? No one has ever escaped…"

"Well hey, don't give up so easily, sir." Hogan said. "Maybe you should try contacting the other Stalags in the area. If they got caught they might be in another camp. And then you could request they be transferred back here."

"You're right!" Klink said. He picked up the phone and began to dial the nearest Stalag.

"That's right," he said. "Two prisoners. An American and an Englander. Yes. Escape? Of course not, I've never had an escape here at Stalag 13! I'm asking…out of curiosity?"

Hogan rolled his eyes.

"No? Alright. What? Oh yes, Heil Hitler." He hung up the phone, dejected.

"It's no use." Klink said.

"You know what they say, sir, if at first you don't succeed …" Hogan picked up the phone once more and handed it back to Klink. He reluctantly called the other Stalags in the area. But they weren't at any of the other camps.

"What about the Gestapo?" Hogan asked.

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to willingly contact the Gestapo! Besides, I would like to keep this little situation under wraps as much as possible."

Hogan sighed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and one of the young guards entered.

"Herr Kommandant, we found this at the edge of the woods near town." He held up a set of British ID tags.

"Who do they belong to?" Klink asked anxiously.

"A…Cpl. Daniel Whittaker, sir." The guard said, his face falling as he read the name aloud for the first time.

Hogan straightened up at the mention of that name. Newkirk's fake dog tags. They must have been ripped off at some point, or were in his pocket and had fallen out. Now he was pretty sure that Newkirk had been at that Hofbrau.

"Dummkopf! We are looking for a Cpl. Newkirk and Sgt. Jacobson! Keep looking." Klink moaned.

"Am I dismissed, sir?" Hogan asked.

"Yes, Hogan. Dismissed." He offered a heartless salute, which Hogan hastily returned.

Back at the Barracks, Hogan filled in his friends.

"So you think the Gestapo has him, Colonel?" Carter said sadly.

"I'm afraid so." Hogan replied. "I'll go out tonight."

There was a moment of quiet before the group started o get ready for the day. After all, they had two RAF pilots coming in that day, that had to be processed, and their counter part prisoners had to escape.

That night, after lights out, Hogan donned some civilian clothes, and exited camp. When he got to the Hofbrau, he immediately spotted his contact.

Hans' brother Christoph was cleaning glasses at the bar when Hogan approached.

"Are you Hans' brother?" Hogan asked quietly, taking off his hat.

The man's eyes shot around the room anxiously before nodding in reply.

"Listen, I need to know what happened last night before your brother arrested."

"I want to make something clear. I'm not a member of the underground. I am a neutral. I just want my brother back." Christoph said. He was eyeing a couple Wehrmacht officers in the back of the room.

"And all I want is to get my man back and your brother back. All I need to know is what happened last night."

"I was behind the bar all night. Friday is our busiest day of the week, and we are open much of the night. Hans was in the kitchen. I heard him talking to someone, I thought maybe one of our suppliers. I didn't pay if much mind. Anyway, there was a Gestapo major in yesterday. He had a man with him, an American. They were sitting over there, at table 6."

"I know who the American was." Hogan seethed. "Can you describe the Gestapo officer?"

"He was average height, brown hair. Oh, and he had a scar across his right cheek." Christoph traced the area on his own cheek.

"I know exactly who you are talking about. That's Major Lindhorst. He's conducted business at Stalag 13 a few times. Not a very friendly type. But, I know where he is stationed. Hopefully, if I am right, he is holding both your brother and my soldier at his Headquarters. If that's the case, I should have them out by this time tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight -

Newkirk moaned softly as he began to regain consciousness. He tried to lift his head, which was a mistake. At the slightest movement, sharp pain bolted through him.

"Guten Morgen, Corporal Newkirk." Came a leering voice from in front of him.

Newkirk managed to glance up a bit, and saw a blurry image of two men. Suddenly, the memories of recent events came flooding into his mind. He silently cursed himself. He had been caught. He shut his eyes, hoping that maybe, when he opened them again, the two men would be gone.

"Ah, ah, Corporal. Time to wake up. You've been out all night. We've got business to take care of now."

The voice was German. It was Major Lindhorst. Newkirk was just wondering why Jacobson wasn't the one taunting him, when he was suddenly drenched with a bucket of icy water.

"Wake up!" That was Jacobson.

Newkirk was awake now. He coughed up a bit of water that he had inhaled, not having expected the attack. He shook his head a couple times, his hands tied behind his back, and unable to wipe the water from his eyes.

"Thank you." Major Lindhorst muttered to his partner, but he didn't seem to mean it. Newkirk figured he wanted to do things a little more smoothly and subtly. "Now that you are completely lucid, we can begin."

"Newkirk, Peter. Corporal, 1794401." He said firmly. Jacobson responded by punching the prisoner in the jaw.

Newkirk saw stars, but didn't so much as wince. He didn't want to give Jacobson the satisfaction.

"Now that we've gotten that out of our system…" Lindhorst began.

"I've been saving that for you since you decked me at the Stalag a week ago. Boy, that felt good. Not so tough when your Colonel Hogan's not around, huh?" 

"Not compared to you, no." Newkirk answered, his tone overwhelmingly sarcastic. "I mean, Cor, you're so tough you can beat up a guy while his hands are behind his back! That really says something, doesn't it."

Another punch. This time, Newkirk bit hard into his lip, which started bleeding. He reminded himself to keep his mouth shut.

"I've been wanting to eliminate you since day one." Jacobson growled. Then, his tone switched to a more boastful one. "But unfortunately, that would've caused too much commotion. Now, of course, Hogan and his men will presume you are dead, and won't be bothered to come and find you. So you can give up on any hope for a break out."

"That's where you're wrong, mate." Newkirk said slowly and defensively. "Colonel Hogan would never leave one of his men behind. American soldiers are good that way. Not that you'd know."

Jacobson stepped forward and grabbed Newkirk by the hair, forcing him to look up, directly in the American's face.

"You're treading on thin ice, scum." He said menacingly. "I never once left a man behind."

"Behind who's lines? Don't try and defend your honour." Newkirk spat at him. "It's too late."

Jacobson glared at him loathingly. After a few tense moments, when Newkirk wasn't sure Jacobson wouldn't shoot him, Lindhorst gently pulled Jacobson away from their prisoner.

"We have a job to do here." He whispered. "This is not about your personal vendettas."

"Alright, I'm sorry. You don't how long I've been waiting to get my hands on this little -" 

"I know. There will be time for that later. But right now, we need information." Lindhorst said. He turned his attention back to Newkirk.

"We would like you to give us the code names and locations of every single underground agent you have worked with. As well as any sabotage missions you and your little group have been a part of."

"Oh is that all?" Newkirk grunted, rolling his eyes.

"No. You're also going to provide us with personal information about every man on your team."

That caught Newkirk's attention. He stared a Lindhorst a moment before asking;

"And what do you propose to do with that information?"

"What difference does it make? If you don't tell us, we'll kill you."

"I'm not going to tell you anything, so you might as well get on with that." Newkirk said, feigning indifference.

"Hmm." The Gestapo Major said. "You still care about your fellow prisoners, despite the fact they did not believe you about my friend here?" He gestured to Jacobson.

" 'course I do!" Newkirk said defensively. "Everyone makes mistakes and those men are the best mates a person could ask for."

"You'd die for them?"

"In a heartbeat."

The Gestapo Major looked a little disappointed. He wasn't used to working with Newkirk's type. In fact, he had had very little contact with allied soldiers, other than those that were like Jacobson. Jacobson was not typical of an allied soldier.

"Well then. We will have to resort to using different tactics, I see. I am going to make you a final offer, Corporal. If you defect to the Germans, you will be very well taken care of for the duration, and not to mention after the war."

"How could you promise a thing like that when the Allies are the ones who are going to win?" Newkirk quipped. Lindhorst was clearly losing his patience now.

"The Allies are retreating on all fronts. Germany is clearly superior. I am offering you this opportunity only once. Defect."

"And I'll offer you this opportunity only once." Newkirk replied. "Drop dead."

Jacobson stepped forward once more and swung his fist into Newkirk's gut. The RAF pilot gasped as the breath was knocked out of him. If he hadn't been tied to a chair, he would certainly have fallen over.

"We aren't getting anywhere with him, Major." Jacobson said. "Maybe he needs a bit more persuasion." He cracked his knuckles suggestively.

"Perhaps you're right." Lindhorst said. Jacobson didn't waste any time. He lay right into the prisoner.

By the end of this little exchange, Newkirk was struggling to hold himself upright. His lip was split, and he wouldn't have been surprised if both his jaw and nose were broken.

"Feeling any more cooperative?" Jacobson asked. Lindhorst was hanging out at the back of the room, pouring himself a drink, uninterested in what was going on.

"N-no." Newkirk managed to say, bitterly.

"Well maybe 24 hours without any food or water will change your mind, hmm?" Lindhorst said. He tapped Jacobson on the shoulder, and motioned for the man to follow him out of the room.

Newkirk breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was left alone. He glanced around at his surroundings for a means to escape, or for a way that Hogan and the others might be able to come through and get him.

He assumed he was at some sort of prison, or Gestapo building based on the décor. The room had cement walls and floor. Against the far wall, next to the door, was a desk that was empty except for a few used glasses and an empty bottle of schnapps. The fact that his captors were intoxicated, unfortunately, was not going to make things any easier for him.

He struggled with his bindings feebly. He knew it was no use. They weren't about to leave him alone if they thought there was a chance he could break out.

So, he tried to find a position where his wrists didn't hurt too much, and closed his eyes. Who knew how much sleep these monsters were going to allow him to have?

Back at the Stalag, Hogan briefed his men on what took place the night before.

"So the Gestapo do have Newkirk!" LeBeau said. He then proceeded to swear vehemently in French.

"I know how you feel." The Colonel replied grimly. "This is going to take a fair bit of planning. Jacobson knows all about what we have here. No doubt Lindhorst knows too. Which means it won't be enough to rescue Newkirk. If we want to continue with operations here, we have to get rid of Jacobson and Lindhorst as well."

"And if any other Gestapo have been informed?" Kinch asked.

"Lindhorst and Hochstetter never got along. If Hochstetter did find out, he'd be here within seconds to bust us. No, I think that Lindhorst was most likely waiting until he had some concrete evidence to back up Jacobson's statement. That's why he is holding Newkirk. He probably wants more information about the underground, too."

"So what are we going to do?" Carter wanted to know.

"I don't know if I want you guys out. If things turn bad, it will be enough that Peter and I are captured."

"Colonel, we want to help get Peter back too." Kinch argued.

"Yeah! None of us believe him about Jacobson either, you know." Carter piped up. Hogan looked at him for a moment. He still felt pretty guilty about that. Newkirk was one of his best friends. Why hadn't he believed him?

"Okay." Hogan agreed. "I think I have an idea."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N - Thanks for your reviews and advice! It means a lot!

Chapter Nine -

Hogan adjusted the red swastika arm band on his Gestapo uniform, and strolled into the Gestapo head quarters where he knew they were holding Newkirk and Hans.

Escaping from the Stalag had been effortless as usual, and with a few Gestapo uniforms in stock, gaining access to the building wasn't too difficult either. The tricky part would be to get caught, but to make it seem as if he was trying not to be.

He looked around at the Nazis who were busying themselves with paperwork in the lobby on the bottom floor. No one paid him any mind; he was, after all, in uniform. Sometimes it bothered Hogan that they couldn't tell the difference. When he walked it, they should turn their heads and think immediately "That man is an ally. He is fighting against oppression, not for it. Let's get him!" Only that wouldn't really be good for sabotage purposes. But still.

Hogan walked around casually, and at one point, slipped in a back hallway that a sign had mark as the holding cells. After a minute, however, he realised that Newkirk wasn't going to be there.

With a story as preposterous as the one that Jacobson and Lindhorst had to tell, he assumed that they hadn't even told anyone else that they had a prisoner, and would continue to keep the whole thing a secret until they had gathered some concrete evidence.

Hogan knew what he had to do now…he had to get caught. He wandered up to the front desk.

"Hello. I'm Major Hoganmeyer." He introduced himself to the receptionist. The woman looked him over.

"You uniform tells me you are a Oberleutenant." She commented suspiciously. The Gestapo officer next to her stopped what he was doing and glared at Hogan.

"Oh!" Hogan said, looking down at his uniform in mock surprise. "Right, an Oberleutenant."

"Your accent is very peculiar." The Gestapo man said, standing up.

"Yes, I -uh - I have spent too much time away from the fatherland, in…America." Hogan answered. The creases on the man's forehead deepened in displeasure.

"I don't recognise you. May I see your papers?" He held out his hand.

"I'm not form this division. My papers are all in order, trust me."

"I would still like to see then, mein Herr." He said, growing impatient. Hogan had them right where he wanted them. He produced his papers.

After reading over them, the man looked up in anger.

"These are Abwehr papers! And yet, you are wearing a Gestapo uniform!" He shouted. People started to stare.

"Are you a spy? The Abwehr is sending spies to check on us now?" He demanded. "Who is your commanding officer, I demand to know!"

"I couldn't tell you that." Hogan said, sighing a bit more loud than was necessary. He held up his hands.

"I'm not Gestapo, or Abwehr. I'm an escaped American Prisoner."

The man jumped forward and pulled out his gun.

"So you are a spy!" He declared. "I could shoot you right here."

"But you won't." Hogan said.

"Oh, won't I?" The man sneered.

"No. First of all, it would be far too messy. People are trying to work here, it would be too distracting. Second of all, I have information. About the underground, about London, even about the Americans."

"All these people divulge their plans to you?" The man asked, doubtfully.

"Ask Major Lindhorst. He knows me. He can vouch for me."

"Maybe I will." The man said, and he picked up the telephone on the desk, still keeping his gun fixed on Hogan, and called Lindhorst, who was down in the basement conducting an interrogation, and didn't want anyone bothering him.

"Yes, that is correct, Major." The Gestapo agent said into the phone. "One moment, I'll ask- your name?"

"Colonel Robert E. Hogan." Hogan said helpfully. Things were going as planned thus far. And with any luck, he would be able to see if Newkirk was alright soon.

"Alright, I'll hold him here for now. Danke." The Gestapo agent hung up.

"What do you know? He says he knows you."

"See? I wouldn't lie to you." Hogan said humourously

"Quite!" The man ordered. "He is coming to get you, and you will be taken for questioning immediately."

"Fine by me." Hogan replied.

A second later, Major Lindhorst appeared.

"Ah, Col. Hogan." He said with an insincere smile. "How nice to have you with us." He faced the Gestapo man with the gun. "I can take it from here. Danke. And well done."

Major Lindhorst led Hogan down a stairwell to the underground floor.

"You better not have hurt him." Hogan said menacingly as they reached the door that was their destination.

"No promises." The German laughed. He swung open the door and shoved Hogan inside.

Newkirk was in the chair, his head down. There was blood trailing down the side of his face from his most recent encounter with Jacobson's fists. He may have been hurt, but his spirits were not entirely broken. Although, he hated to admit, they were getting there.

"He didn't believe you about me, why would he come after you? He probably thinks you deserted because no one would listen!" Jacobson had taunted, after Newkirk insisted that that Hogan and the others would save him.

And now, without knowing Hogan was actually standing right in front of him, Newkirk was trying to convince himself that the enemy was wrong. But after all, Hogan hadn't believed him. Maybe he even thought that he, Newkirk, had gone back, and he had gotten Jacobson arrested on purpose. The thought sent a shudder through him.

"Newkirk." Hogan said quietly.

The RAF pilot lifted his head slowly, confused. At the sight of his commanding officer, his eyes lit up. He jerked his body to the side, facing Jacobson and laughed.

"See? Told you he'd come!"

"Who cares? He's been arrested now, just like you! He can't possibly help you this way." Jacobson sneered.

Newkirk looked a Hogan and offered a weak smile. With his cut lip, it was a bit painful.

"Well, he's here, isn't he?" Newkirk said.

Hogan felt a pang of guilt. Even though he hadn't believed Newkirk about Jacobson, Newkirk had faithfully believed in Hogan the entire time.

"Hey are you okay?" Hogan said, taking a few steps forward and crouching in front of his friend.

"I'm okay, gov'." Newkirk said. "I guess things had to end eventually. We had a good run though, didn't we?"

Hogan put a supportive hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"It's not over until it's over." He said quietly.

"What are you two whispering about?" Lindhorst demanded, pulling the Colonel away from Newkirk.

"What does it matter?" Hogan asked. "You're not going to let us get out of here alive."

"True." Jacobson said with a grin.

"Although…" Hogan began thoughtfully.

"Although what?" Lindhorst asked when Hogan didn't continue.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that if you were to take us back to camp, under heavy guard of course, I could show you our lay out."

"I believe my partner is capable of doing that." Lindhorst replied.

"Sure, we let him in on a few of our secrets, but we don't tell new guys everything. I bet he hasn't even figured out who we are hiding down in the tunnels."

Jacobson looked a bit defensive. He and Lindhorst looked at one another. It was evident by Jacobson's expression that he didn't, in fact, know who Hogan was talking about.

"And who might that be, Colonel?' Lindhorst asked.

"Hey, maybe you guys will be willing to do a prisoner exchange! Newkirk and myself for Obherfurher Reimer."

"Obherfurher Reimer?" Lindhorst repeated. A big name in Berlin, a man who had suddenly gone missing a couple weeks back.

"I never saw him when I was with you." Jacobson objected.

"You 'never saw' a lot of stuff. There are entire sections of the operation we never even let you know about."

There was a tense silence for a few moments.

"Is it possible?" Lindhorst then asked his partner.

"With the set up they've got down there, anything is possible." Jacobson said.

Lindhorst nodded and turned back to the American.

"Colonel, we accept your offer. However, we will not be doing a prisoner exchange. You will take us back to Stalag 13, and you will reveal to us all of you operation. Then, I will take you and all of your accomplices prisoner."

"What if I refuse to cooperate?" Hogan asked.

"I will shoot your man right here, and if that isn't enough, I will take other men from your Stalag and shoot them, until you do cooperate. Do we have an accord?"

Hogan grimaced. Newkirk looked at him pleadingly.

"We do." Hogan said in defeat.

Newkirk looked at his commanding officer, unable to believe he had made such a deal. But Hogan looked back at him with a reassuring look in his eyes, which the Germans were blind to.

The Colonel had a different plan in mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten -

"We will go back to the camp together. My friend here will keep your man here for collateral." Lindhorst said.

"No." Hogan replied. "He comes with us. I'm not letting you get your hands on him again."

"What difference does it make where he is?"

"Let's just say, I don't exactly trust the pair of you." Hogan said, annoyed. "And I don't want to come back and find him dead. Now either he comes with us, or the deal is off."

Lindhorst looked thoughtful for a moment. He turned to Jacobson, who shrugged.

"Very well." Lindhorst answered. Jacobson untied Newkirk's hands, and pulled him out of the chair.

Newkirk rubbed his wrists, which were cut from the tight bindings.

"Let's go." Jacobson said, shoving him forward.

"After you, Colonel." Lindhorst said, motioning to the door with his pistol.

"What now, sir?" Newkirk whispered.

"Now we go back to Stalag 13." Hogan said, simply. Newkirk gave him an apprehensive look.

The two Nazis led their prisoners upstairs, outside, and to a car parked around the back of the building. Newkirk was thankful to get some fresh air, but they were immediately ushered into the vehicle.

"You look terrible." Hogan said, eyeing Newkirk's facial injuries as they climbed into the back seat.

"Thanks a lot!" Newkirk smirked, sarcastically. Then he frowned. "You know, you don't look too well either, gov'nor." He noticed the Colonel pasty complexion and heavy eyes.

"I'll be alright." Hogan assured him. "When we get back to camp, I'll get Wilson to check out those cuts of yours."

"Somehow, I doubt our friends here will allow for that to happen." Newkirk laughed bitterly.

Hogan didn't reply.

Johnson, who was in the front passenger seat, turned 180 degrees and held a pistol at the two prisoners.

"You know, Colonel, I'm surprised you let yourself get caught! It seems out of character." He smirked.

"I panicked. I've never had one of my men get caught before, and I got sloppy. I'm sorry, Newkirk. If I hadn't been so careless, you might have been free right now."

Hogan spoke to the Corporal with a look of genuine remorse. Newkirk had a feeling he wasn't really apologizing for being caught, but for not believing him about Jacobson in the first place.

"That's alright, Colonel. We're only human, eh?" He offered a weak smile. Hogan nodded, but he didn't look like he'd forgiven himself at all.

"So, tell me, Hogan. How did you happen to capture Obherfurher Reimer?" Lindhorst wanted to know.

"It's a long story. You see, one night, we went into town on a separate mission. And it happened to be at the hotel when the Oberfurher was staying. When one of my men spotted him, we realised it was too good an opportunity to pass up." Hogan said. Jacobson, enwrapped in the story, didn't notice the road block up ahead. Lindhorst slowed to a stop.

"Your papers, mein herr?" Said the man in the German uniform out at the car. Lindhorst dug into his pocket to get his ID papers.

"So what happened after that?" Jacobson pressed.

"You know, I think that will have to wait for a different time." Hogan said with a grin.

Just then, the passenger door opened, and Jacobson was dragged from his seat, a gun to his head. Lindhorst turned, his papers still in hand, and was pistol whipped through the open window, then dragged out of the car.

Hogan jumped out the backseat. Newkirk was too stunned to move for a moment, but then got out as well.

"What's all this, then?" Newkirk asked with a grin. Olsen and LeBeau had subdued Lindhorst, and Kinch and Carter had Jacobson. The two Nazis looked furious and nervous at the same time, afraid to move for fear that the man holding the guns to their heads would fire.

"We're here to help save you!" Carter explained.

"We can't let the Colonel have all the fun, now can we?" Olsen asked.

"I suppose not!" Newkirk smiled back.

"What do you intend to do now, Colonel Hogan?" Lindhorst asked.

"We're gonna send you to England." Hogan replied, his voice rich with pride at the team's accomplishment. "There, you will be tried and spend the rest of the war in a prison cell." He turned to his men.

"Load them into the car. Let's start making our way back to camp."

The allied prisoners forcefully put the Nazis in the back seat of their own car, and Hogan, Newkirk and LeBeau got in with them. Carter, Kinch and Olsen had to walk back to camp on their own.

LeBeau sat in the back, his loaded gun aimed up at the two men at all times. Newkirk turned around, holding the German Major's pistol.

"You wanted us to catch you all along." Jacobson said, disgusted as the car started rolling along.

"Yep." Hogan said, simply, from the drivers seat.

"Diabolical, sir." Newkirk complimented with a smirk.

"Thanks Newkirk."

"And what do you propose you will tell the Gestapo about our disappearance? They know we were working on a case revolving around your Stalag, but don't know the details. They are bound to suspect something."

"Simple. You guys pretty much did that part for us. Sgt. Jacobson here was, in fact, a triple agent, working for the Allies the entire time."

The two Nazis looked at each other.

"What?" Jacobson asked.

" That way, Jacobson, BOTH sides will think of you as a traitor at the same time." Hogan said. Jacobson went a bit pale.

"Alright, we're almost back at camp." Hogan announced a couple minutes later. "We'll park on the other side of the forest, and go in through the tunnel."

"What did you do about roll calls while I was gone? I missed four, at least." Newkirk said.

"The Major told Klink that they were holding you for questioning. And Klink and Hochstetter knew all along about Jacobson, they just didn't know the details of the case.

I'm going to convince Hochstetter that Lindhorst was a defector all along, arresting innocent German civilians, just for the sake of it. Eventually, once Hans is released, I'll get him to dress up as Gestapo, and bring you into camp through the main gate."

Hogan pulled over the car by the side of the road.

"You two take them into camp. I'm going to discard this vehicle somewhere where they won't trace it back to Stalag 13. Newkirk, wait underground until I get back. Then, we'll keep an eye out for Hans. Got it?"

"Yes sir." Newkirk said happily. He and LeBeau brought their two prisoners to the tunnel entrance. Hogan got back about 20 minutes later. Newkirk, Olsen and Kinch were down in the tunnel, along with the now tightly tied up prisoners.

"Doesn't feel too good, does it?" Newkirk asked snidely. The two men glared at him.

"Newkirk, can I talk to you for a minute?" Hogan said, motioning for the RAF pilot to join him further down in the tunnel, where no one else could hear them.

"They should notice that Lindhorst is missing by tonight, and I expect Major Hochstetter, and maybe General Burkhaulter here no later than tomorrow afternoon." Hogan said. "I'm fairly confident that I can get all of Lindhorst's prisoners released."

"Then, I can be brought back officially." Newkirk added. "I feel like I owe poor Hans an apology. It's my fault that he was arrested in the first place."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm the one who should be apologizing. To you." Hogan said. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I don't know what came over me. Maybe I just didn't want to believe that a fellow American could betray our side like that."

"I understand sir. I wish it weren't true either, but Jacobson isn't the first one." Newkirk said, somewhat awkwardly. He wasn't used to the Colonel apologizing to him. It was often the other way around!

"I can't imagine what the last couple days have been like for you, in the hands of those monsters. In fact, I'm sure the last couple weeks have been difficult for you. And I'm solely to blame for that."

"Actually, sir, Jacobson is solely to blame for that." Newkirk smiled lightly.

Hogan managed a smile back.

"And look, I'm sorry I went off without telling you and others first. I guess that was kind of a stupid thing to do." Newkirk said.

"Well, I'm willing to forgive you if you're willing to forgive me." Hogan said.

"Deal." Newkirk said, and they shook hands.

"I'm sorry you have to sleep down here tonight with those two idiots. But Kinch is going to radio London and have them pick up our prisoners as soon as possible."

"Where they'll be brought to justice." Newkirk added.

"Yeah." Hogan said. Lindhorst would go to a British POW camp, and Jacobson would either spend the war in jail, or be shot as a traitor.

"I better get upstairs. Supper is starting soon." Hogan said.

"Oh sir?"

"Yes?"

"Could you bring me something to eat? I haven't eaten in at least 24 hours, and I'm starting to feel a bit peckish." He gave his CO a lopsided grin. Hogan was horrified.

"Of course! I'll have LeBeau bring something down right now, and I'll bring you my rations at supper tonight."

"Oh you don't have to do that, sir…"

"Believe me, Newkirk. It's the least I can do." Hogan gave him one last apologetic look before going back down the tunnel.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 -

Early the next morning, Hogan was summoned to Klink's office.

"Good morning, Kommandant. What can I do for you on this fine day?"

"Quiet, Hogan!" Klink snapped, wanting to demonstrate to Hochstetter and Burkhalter the total and utter control he had over his prisoners. "These men want to question you, and I expect you to give them your full cooperation."

"I'll try my best, sir." Hogan said.

"Colonel Hogan," Burkhalter spoke up. "What do you know of a Major Lindhorst?"

Hogan changed his expression, to give the impression that he knew something, but wasn't about to tell.

"Why?" He asked cautiously.

"Because he disappeared without a trace last night. Along with another one of our agents, an American named Jacobson."

Hogan's face lit up, exaggeratedly.

"Oh they did make it? I'm glad. Such nice guys." Then he covered his mouth, like he had let something slip. "Oops."

"What did you just say?" Hochstetter demanded.

"Alright, I guess now that they're safe back in London, there's no danger. Jacobson let me in on the whole thing here at camp last week."

"Jacobson was a double agent." Klink interjected. "He was working for us."

"That's what you thought!" Hogan said. "Actually, he was double crossing YOU guys! I guess that makes him a triple agent, huh."

"I don't believe this. Lindhorst was a clever man, he would never fall for something like that!" Hochstetter said.

"That's because he didn't." Hogan told him. "Lindhorst was in on it too! He was a defector. Jacobson had orders from the pentagon the entire time, and the two of them were wasting the Gestapo's time and money."

"Sabotage." Hochstetter growled.

"Right." Hogan nodded. "Not to mention spying, leaking information to London. It was a brilliant operation. Jacobson told me that the two of them were planning to wrap things up yesterday, and head off to London. I guess this means that they got away clean! I'm glad, such good people."

"Would you shut up?" Hochstetter sneered. Hogan shrugged.

"Just answering your questions." He said, with feigned dejection.

"I can't believe it." Burkhalter muttered. "Major Lindhorst was a fine, loyal officer."

"That's what he wanted you to think." Hogan said. "Don't blame yourself, sir. He fooled all of you."

"Not helping." Klink snapped, sending Hogan an annoyed look.

"There's one thing I do disagree with, though. He told me once he had arrested some innocent German civilians, claiming they were part of the underground. Then, he would pretend to have gotten information from them and lead the Gestapo astray in their investigations. If you ask me, that's going too far!"

"For once, you're right." Hochstetter agreed. He grabbed the phone off Klink's desk, and called Gestapo headquarters.

"This is Major Hochstetter. Release any prisoners that Major Lindhorst has arrested. Don't ask questions, just do it. Heil Hitler." He hung up the phone.

"Can you imagine sending innocent Germans to their deaths like that?" Klink asked.

"You Allies are truly evil." Burkhalter remarked.

"Hey, we aren't the ones who shot them. That was your side. If you had caught on to Lindhorst sooner…"

"That's enough, Hogan." Hochstetter barked. "Dismissed."

Hogan shrugged and walked out of the room. He quickly went back to his barracks, where his team met him at the door.

"We were listening on the coffee pot." Kinch said. "Hochstetter actually made the call! Good job, Colonel!" 

"To be honest, I'm pretty surprised that that worked." Hogan said, grinning. He took off his uniform and started putting on civilian clothes. "Let's not waste any time. I'll take Newkirk out with me, and we'll wait at the Hofbrau for Hans to show up."

"Good luck, mon Colonel." LeBeau said, as Hogan descended down into the tunnel.

"Time to go, sir?" Newkirk asked.

"Yep. Let's head out." Hogan replied.

"Okay. Just one second." He turned on his heels, and drew a fist back, then lunged at Jacobson, who was tied to his chair.

"Newkirk!" Hogan shouted, just as the younger man froze. His knuckles were barely touching the defector's gut. Jacobson twisted his face in anticipation, and let out a whimper.

"I wouldn't beat up a man whose hands were tied behind his back, sir." Newkirk said after a moment, drawing away from their prisoner. He stared into Jacobson's eyes, "I just wanted to see how tough he was."

Jacobson looked at the floor, trying not to let on that he had been scared.

There was a moment of tension before Hogan put a hand on Newkirk's shoulder.

"I think you made your point. We need to get moving." He said gently.

"Okay." Newkirk replied, finally breaking his gaze on Jacobson. He grabbed his jacket from a hook on the wall and followed his CO down the tunnel, and out into the forest.

They walked in silence for minute.

"What was that about?" Hogan asked.

"It wasn't anything, really, Colonel. Jacobson thought he was all tough, but I told him that it doesn't take much to be able to beat up a guy in chains. He didn't like my saying that."

Newkirk subconsciously ran his fingertips over his lip, where it had been split. It was still painful.

"I'm really sorry that happened to you, you know. I still can't help but feel responsible."

"It wasn't your fault. I'm the one who went off on my own. I should've asked Kinch, or anybody to come with me. Kinch believed me the whole time, you know."

Hogan nodded. "Well, Kinch is a good guy."

"He is." Newkirk agreed. They arrived at the Hofbrau, and found the door had a 'Closed' sign on it. They went in anyway. Just as they entered, Hans and his brother, Christoph, appeared from the back room.

"Colonel Hogan!" Hans said, with a big smile. He rushed forward to shake hands with the American. "Danke! Vielen, herzlichen Dank!"

"You're very welcome." Hogan said, shaking hands with Christoph as well.

"Newkirk, I'm glad to see that you are alright!" Hans said, turning to the RAF pilot.

"Same goes for you, mate! I thought you were dead! I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"Please, don't apologize. I knew this would be a dangerous job when I took it on. I'm just glad Colonel Hogan has managed to avoid tragedy in this instance." Hans said.

"Me too." Newkirk agreed.

"And so am I." Christoph said. "Colonel Hogan, you kept your promise. To show my gratitude, I am going to join my brother, as a member of the underground."

"I'm certainly glad to hear that, Christoph. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you. Now what can we do you for you, gentlemen?"

"We need to get Newkirk back into camp in an inconspicuous manner. So, Hans, or Christoph, I guess - if one of you two could bring him back dressed as a Gestapo. Our Kommandant is expecting him, now that we had all of Lindhorst's prisoners released."

"That's a dangerous mission." Christoph said. "But you risked a lot to free my brother. I am indebted to you. I'll go."

"Perfect." Hogan pulled a Gestapo uniform out of a cloth bag he had brought with him from Stalag 13. "Here you go. I'll head back to the Stalag. See you soon, and good luck."

With that, Hogan left.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Hans said to Newkirk "how is it that your Colonel managed to get me, and other underground members, released?"

"Mister, I'm not even sure I understand it myself." Newkirk said with a smile.

"He's a brilliant man."

"I must agree with you there, sir." The Englander replied.

"And what became of the defector and Gestapo Major?" Christoph asked, adding the final touches to his uniform.

"They're down in the tunnel under our Stalag. Colonel Hogan has a plane coming tomorrow to pick them up and take them to London."

"Our side would've shot them without a trial." Christoph said bitterly.

"Welcome to our side." Newkirk smiled. "Ready to go?"

"I am." Christoph said.

"God be with you, my friend." Hans said, taking Newkirk's hand in his own.

"And with you as well." Newkirk replied.

"And please, if there is anything I can do for you…"

"Only one thing."

"Anything!" Hans said.

"Let us have a bit to drink before we head back to camp!" He smirked. The two brothers laughed, and Hans began to pour the drinks.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 -

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants to see you in his office." Schultz said, as he walked up from behind the group in Barracks 2.

"Is Newkirk back yet, Colonel?" Carter asked hopefully. It had been too long since he'd seen his friend, and was anxious to see him back safe and sound.

"Hopefully that's why I am being summoned." Hogan grabbed his cap from the table and flung it on top of his head.

Then, he and Schultz made their way over to the Kommandant's office.

Hogan grinned when Schultz opened the door to Klink's office, and the pair of them beheld Klink, Newkirk, and Christoph, dressed as a Gestapo officer.

"Major Hochstetter gave us orders to release all of Lindhorst's prisoners. I am releasing this man into your custody, Kommandant." Christoph said.

"Obviously, he is not really a spy. In fact, Major Lindhorst treated him like royalty while he was being held at Gestapo headquarters. Imagine, this lowly English prisoner, eating fine food while we, the German officers, eat nothing but rations!" Christoph sneered.

"True, true!" Klink said, nodding solemnly. He pointed at Hogan and Newkirk. "I've said it before, I'll say it again! Your side is ruthless!"

"Thank you sir." Hogan said.

Newkirk resisted the urge to scoff at Christoph's lie about Lindhorst's, more specifically Jacobson's treatment towards him. They had effectively covered most of Newkirk's scrapes and bruises with make up.

"I must be going now." Christoph said. "Everything is being done to catch that filthy traitor, Lindhorst. Heil Hitler!"

"Oh yes, Heil!" Klink replied zealously, saluting. And with that, Christoph turned on his heels. He winked at the two prisoners and left.

Schultz, who noticed the wink, thought at first he might mention it to the Kommandant. But then he decided to ask Hogan about it after.

"Now." Klink said, pointing at Newkirk. "You've caused quite a bit of trouble around here! I've been wondering. How is it that Lindhorst managed to get you in his custody. He never came to me, and would have been stopped at the gate trying to get in! Which could mean only one thing!"

"What's that sir?" Newkirk asked.

"You were outside the wire! They said that they caught you trying to escape!"

Newkirk looked to Hogan, who winced.

"That part was true, wasn't it? I'm right, aren't I?" Klink asked, smugly.

"Yes sir." Newkirk answered, annoyed.

"Ah-ha! Thirty days in the cooler!" Klink ordered.

"Oh, come on sir. I helped you guys out, giving you that tip about Lindhorst arresting innocents. Show your appreciation. Let him off the hook."

"Nonsense!" Klink said firmly. "He gets thirty days. End of discussion."

"C'mon. Five days would be plenty."

"Five!" Klink exclaimed. "You can't be serious! No less than 25 days."

"10 days." Hogan said.

"23 days."

"12."

"20." The Kommandant offered.

"5."

Klink slapped the desk top, frustrated.

"Five? You went back down!"

"Well, sir, your offers were getting smaller, so I thought mine should too. It's only fair that way." Hogan replied simply.

"Well yes, I suppose that makes sen- HOGAN!" Klink yelled.

"Alright, alright. Let's say a week, and call it even. That's my final offer."

"Fine, a week. Just get out of my office, you're giving me a headache." Klink murmured, rubbing his temples.

"Thank you sir." Hogan said. Then, the two allied prisoners hurried out of the room, followed by Schultz.

Christoph was still outside, standing by the staff car (the same staff car that had previously belonged to Lindhorst, but with different plates).

With Schultz standing some distance away, keeping an eye on them, the three men talked.

"You did great." Hogan praised.

"Yeah, thanks a million, mate. Never would have made it back without you." Newkirk said. "I have to say, you make a very convincing Nazi."

"Newkirk, manners." Hogan reminded, with a playful grin. Christoph and Newkirk laughed. Then, the three men shook hands, as no one was around except Schultz.

"We look forward to working with you again in the future." Hogan said, as Christoph stepped into the car.

"Certainly. I'm sure we'll be in touch. Auf Wiedersehen!" Christoph said, and he drove off.

"It's good to be back, you know." Newkirk said, turning to his CO. "I know I was only gone a couple days, but it felt like a lot more."

"Felt like more to us, too. And I'm sorry your have to spend a week in the cooler. I tried to get you out of it."

"I know, Gov'. A week isn't all that bad."

Schultz came waddling over in a panic.

"I recognise that man! The one who came in! And I saw him wink at you, and a minute ago, you all shook hands! Colonel Hogan, what is going on here?"

"Schultz, this time, even if you wanted to know, I don't think you could grasp the whole thing." Hogan sighed.

"What do you think I am, a dumbkopff or something?" Schultz asked indignantly, as he led Newkirk to the cooler.

" 'course not, Schultzie!" Newkirk said. "Even I don't think I know all the details of what happened. But I can try and explain it to you, if you like…"

"No, no, no! I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing!" Schultz unlocked a cell door. Newkirk ambled inside, and Schultz locked him in.

"And that's why we love you, Schultz." Hogan said. "You never know too much than what's good for you."

The Sergeant rolled his eyes, and walked away, grumbling to himself. Hogan turned to his man.

"I'll have LeBeau bring you some good food later on. And I know Carter and Kinch are anxious to see you, so they'll probably drop in too."

"Okay Colonel." Newkirk replied, rather pleasantly despite the circumstance.

"I'm really sorry about this…And about everything else." Hogan began.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, sir. I've already forgotten the whole thing, myself. I'm just glad to be back here, and to be getting back to work."

Hogan smiled. "Alright. Well, I'll drop by later, too. I'll bring you some blankets, and cigarettes, that sort of thing."

"Okay. Thanks."

When Hogan left, Newkirk lay down on the hard cell cot. He was cold, locked up and hungry. It was just like when he had been locked up a week earlier.

Only this time, he had his friends on his side.

Just knowing that they had his back would help the week go by quickly. He smiled at the thought of seeing his friends, feeling like he hadn't seen them in weeks!

So lying there, in a dark, damp, seemingly depressing cell, he had never felt less alone in his entire life.


End file.
